


Larkspur

by Val_Creative



Series: Language of Flowers Femslash Feb 2021 [20]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Brienne of Tarth, Casterly Rock (A Song of Ice and Fire), Cersei Lannister Being Cersei Lannister, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, Femslash February 2021, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, Minor Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, POV Brienne of Tarth, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 08 Finale, Romantic Friendship, Self-Hatred, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Westeros (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Cersei Lannister survives and ends up a war captive staying on Casterly Rock. Brienne visits her occasionally.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: Language of Flowers Femslash Feb 2021 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138865
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10
Collections: Femslash February





	Larkspur

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came to me kinda out of nowhere but I like it. It never settled right with me what S8 did to Jaime and Brienne and Cersei so I'm making up shit and having fun,,,, why not,,, anyways if you got thoughts/comments I would love to hear them!
> 
> _Note: Larkspur - Dignity_

*

Casterly Rock is as enormous as they say: it stands a mountainous tower overlooking nearby ports in the Sunset Sea.

Vylarr and seven-and-twenty red cloaks escort Brienne from the lower town. Lannister guardsmen. They've been appointed by Lord Tyrion Lannister to watch over his older sister being held in their ancestral home.

A war _captive_.

(It's more than Cersei deserves after Westeros rebuilds with a new king.)

Yara Greyjoy and Queen Sansa Stark demanded a public execution. Brienne was the first to speak against it.

There is no point in more bloodshed.

Brienne nods inattentively to the guardsmen waiting at a bedchamber's entrance. Twin doors of goldenheart wood. She knocks, bracing herself, and holds an inhale. Brienne's heart thuds rapidly in her chest. No armour upon her person.

_In the name of the Warrior… I charge you to be brave…_

Jaime Lannister's deep and softened voice creeps upon her.

Brienne swallows hard. She must remember her vows.

"You may come in."

She listens for Cersei to murmur this through the doors, pushing in and regarding the scene in front of her. Brienne halts.

Cersei rocks her newborn in her arms, rearranging her dress as she finishes nursing. Every bit of her milkglass skin is illuminated in sunlight, and not in the blazing green wildfire of Sansa's nightmares. Brienne remembers them vividly spoken to life. Her eyes catch a sight of one of Cersei's rounded, pinkish-brown teats before shamefully averting her eyes.

The guardsmen…

Before any of them can notice, or protest, Brienne slowly shuts one of Cersei's bedchamber doors.

"Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to interrupt."

"That's quite alright, ser." Cersei sounds more fatigued than usual, unsmiling. Maester Creylen hasn't visit. It's a small space Cersei has been confined to. Enough for a plain, wooden cradle and Cersei's sleeping mat.

Below the window is a long drop onto gigantic sea-stone rocks jutting like spears. Brienne doubts Cersei's window opens at all.

She has visited Casterly Rock a number of times, and it's the same. Brienne inquires about Cersei's treatment from Cersei herself, expecting her to rave on complaining but finds her indifferent. They speak scarcely and with low, stiff tones. Despite what Cersei has done… and she has done _much_ horrors as a Queen and Queen-Regent… she is Jaime's twin sister.

(Brienne refuses to let Cersei waste away as a stain to Jaime's legacy.)

"Is it strange?"

Brienne lifts her hand resting on Oathkeeper's pommel.

"I beg pardon, my lady?"

"I do prefer it," Cersei admits, her face scrunching up in a vainglorious delight. " _Begging_."

For a moment, she seems like herself.

Brienne gazes over her, speechless. Tendrils of gold brush the sides of Cersei's face. Her hair elegantly knotted up. Women are… rather something Brienne isn't prepared to admit she can love. She hardly knows how to court _anyone_.

"Forgive me. I meant being called _ser_ —you have been knighted as a woman, which is unheard of, and everyone accepts it without question. Even if they don't agree." Cersei narrows her eyes, doubtful. "Is that strange to you?"

"It's all I ever wanted."

Brienne cannot think of anything more worthwhile: fighting for Westeros and for a cause she would die for. Being recognised.

"If you allow it to go to your head and to your heart, your fate will the same as my brother's." Cersei's nostrils flare. Her eyes gleam briefly with moisture. "I think of him in here…" she whispers to Brienne, setting her newborn daughter gently into her bear-fur lined cradle. "I think of how meaningless his death was… He came to me and we were to be crushed to death together…"

"Jamie pushed me out of the way of the roof's collapse…"

"He was a fool…"

Brienne's jaw clenches.

"No," she insists, marching over to a stern-looking Cersei. "No, he wasn't. Jaime Lannister was one of the most honourable men I have ever known in my life. For that, you and your child are alive. He chose you instead of himself."

" _THAT_ ," Cersei hisses through her teeth angrily, nearly sobbing, " _IS WHY HE IS A FOOL_ …"

The outrage drains from Brienne. She doesn't believe anyone else living has seen this part of Cersei. The self-loathing and grief. Cersei dabs off her tears, panting and looking down into the wooden cradle. The newborn squirms, her tiny, pudgy arms flailing.

Brienne's mouth curls into a thin smile.

"… Does she have a name, my lady?"

"Margot Lannister," Cersei breathes. Her own flushed features soften with admiring as Cersei's fingertip strokes over Margot's flabby cheek. "After the Lady of Starpike whom married Lord Titus Peake. My distant cousin… I remember my lady mother would tell stories of her enchanting laughter that filled Casterly Rock on its darkest days and her intentions born of a good heart…"

Brienne chuckles. "That seems fitting."

"Will you be staying with us?" Cersei asks, and Brienne isn't sure if it's hopeful or not.

She considers it. She considers how it is inevitable to wander the darkness and listen to the thunderous ocean waves below them all. Brienne knows she would return to Cersei, finding her undressed in this taper-lit chambers _as if waiting._

Brienne found herself clumsy with Jaime, and she suspects it would be no easier making love to Cersei. Her brother was gentle hands and reassuring, laughing words, and Cersei heightens herself with dominance. Rough as the woolen blankets. Brienne would not know peace with Cersei's sharp nails digging Brienne's hips, and her little mouth harsh on Brienne's neck and ear.

As if discovering Brienne's notions, Cersei glances over the other woman, smirking.

Brienne raises her eyebrows, pinkening.

"I shall have a rest before supper. You may take your leave, Ser Brienne," Cersei informs her. "Travel safely back to the Red Keep." She presents out her hand, bare of finery. Cersei's skin without the odour of heavy, bittersweet perfumes.

"Thank you, my lady," Brienne mumbles, leaning in to dryly kiss Cersei's middle knuckle.

Perhaps she will visit again sooner.

*


End file.
